


The End of the Line

by JJK



Series: Stucky Fix-it Series [1]
Category: Agent Carter (TV), Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Avengers: Endgame
Genre: Canon Compliant, Fix-It, Fixing Canon, Lots of crying and mushy conversations, M/M, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Post-Canon Fix-It, Post-Endgame, Self indulgent to try and give me closure, The missing mushy conversations we deserve, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-28
Updated: 2019-05-13
Packaged: 2020-02-09 11:26:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 17,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18637198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JJK/pseuds/JJK
Summary: A post Endgame Stucky fix it fic to give Steve and Bucky the closure they (and we) deserve.=Steve goes back to replace the stones and stays to rescue Bucky, featuring their missing conversations before Steve leaves.





	1. New York, 2012

**Author's Note:**

> MAJOR SPOILERS for Endgame!!!!!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will preface this by saying that I adore Peggy. I can see that the writers tried to give Steve their version of a happy ending (it was more positive than I was expecting)
> 
> BUT, I do feel there was a lot left unsaid between Steve and Bucky, and a lot that needs explaining for the ending to make sense and feel satisfying. Therefore, as a staunch Stucky shipper, here's how I would like to reimagine the ending.
> 
> (PS. This is not the ending I would have chosen, this fic is designed to let me rewatch endgame without wanting to scream).

Steve stood on the platform and gripped the handle of the sleek metal briefcase tightly.

“Ready?” Banner asked him. Tight-lipped and determined, Steve nodded. Place the stones back in their timelines just after the moment they’d been removed. Don’t lose them. Don’t get trapped. Don’t die. Piece of cake....What could do possibly wrong? Sam and Bucky were staring at him with concern so Steve smiled to assuage their fears. His fingers flexed around the handle of Mjolnir, still awed by how it could feel so weightless yet so powerful his grip.

“Ready.” Steve gave Banner the verbal confirmation he was waiting for.

“Three, two, one…”

Steve activated the helmet on his suit and held Bucky’s gaze until he was suddenly shrinking and falling, sucked into the quantum realm at an impossibly fast velocity and speeding into the stream of timelines at a dizzying pace.

=

_New York, 2012_

New York was in ruins. Smouldering wrecks of cars lined the streets and the crumpled shells of Chitauri were scattered amongst the rubble of broken buildings. It still shocked Steve to see how much destruction had been wrought on his city, no matter how many times he saw it. There were already two other versions of himself running around in that timeline, so he took every precaution not to be seen as he hurried down the sidewalk towards 177A Bleecker Street and knocked sharply on the front door. This street, like so many others, had seen it’s far share of destruction, but the large building occupying the space before him looked oddly intact. Steve remembered the golden circle shields which had peppered the sky during the battle with Thanos; no doubt similar skills had been employed here. Steve knew they were tasked with guarding the sanctum, but he couldn’t help but wonder how they could let the battle of New York rage around them and not lend a hand.

Perhaps that was why he took such a brisk tone with the Ancient One as he handed the green stone back into her safe keeping.

“You don’t approve.” She surmised, without Steve having to utter a word. He straightened his back and jutted his jaw, unwilling to voice his criticisms. He didn’t have to, she seemed able to read every thought as it tumbled through his mind. “There is more darkness in this universe than you know,”

“With all due respect, ma’am, I think I’ve seen my fair share of it.”

“I’m sure you have.” She smiled kindly, knowingly. “You’ve done well, Captain. Thank you for returning this.”

 He nodded.

“You must have been tempted to use it.”

“Ma’am?”

“I’m sure there are things, beyond Thanos, that you wish could be undone.”

A flicker of longing in Steve’s face gave him away. Peggy. Bucky. Yes; there was plenty Steve would undo if he could. But it wasn’t his place. The happiness of one man should not tip the scales of the universe. He said as much.

“Wise words.” The ancient one gave him another smile and retreated, leaving Steve standing in the grand wood panelled hallway. He was one stone down, he should have felt elated, instead he felt strangely empty.

=

_“Bucky!” Steve ran across the battle field and threw himself at Bucky. The force of the hug crushed his cracked ribs but if he felt any pain it was lost in the sea of aches and exhaustion, or the adrenaline that had been keeping him standing for the past few hours. Even that was dulled by the sheer and utter delight, the relief, the gut-aching love that coursed through every fibre of his being. He’d thought he'd lost Bucky again. Once had been hard enough, a second time had nearly broken him. “Oh, thank god, thank god.”_

_Bucky was smiling. There was a vindication and a vitality shining from his eyes that had been missing for so long. Before he could stop himself, Steve’s hand found the back of Bucky’s neck and pulled him forwards for a kiss. It was a messy affair, he tasted blood and grit in both of their mouths and his jaw was aching as his bones knitted themselves back together after Thanos’ onslaught, but Christ almighty, if it wasn’t the most glorious feeling in the world._

_“I missed you, so fucking much.” Steve breathed into Bucky’s neck. He felt Bucky’s hands bunch at the material of his uniform._

_“It’s good to be back,”_

_“How long?”_

_“A few hours –” Bucky broke off, suddenly tense and still. “Steve,”_

_Steve noticed it too, with a sudden lurching dread. The reason the battle had stopped; the flakes of ash that had settled over everything. Somebody had used the gauntlet._

=

The Avengers Tower was in uproar: Tony Stark was recovering from a heart attack, and Loki was missing - presumably having knocked Captain America and stolen both the tesseract and the sceptre. There would be no cool down dinner of shawarma that evening; everyone was still on high alert.

Steve popped his collar and dipped his head, sneaking in through a service door at the back of the building, he sprinted up the endless spiral stairs until he reached the atrium where he’d fought with himself. Shattered glass covered the floor and crunched underfoot as Steve crept behind the cover of a pillar. Guilt squirmed in his gut as he remembered how he’d manipulated himself; it was a cheap move, using Bucky to throw off is focus. The jolt of realising Bucky was still alive had shocked Steve to his very core and the fact that he’d left his best friend to suffer that _hell_ at the hands of hydra… Steve took a breath and cleared his mind. He briefly wondered what that knowledge would mean for this timeline. Banner had mentioned that time might fracture and create new streams or parralel universe if they changed anything drastic. Well, in this stream Captain America knew Bucky was still alive far earlier than he had before, and Steve knew he’d stop at nothing to find Bucky. Moreover, Sitwell’s Strike Team thought Captain America was a member of Hydra, and Loki was once again loose with the Tesseract; that would certainly shake things up. But Steve couldn’t dwell too much on those ramifications, his task was to return the sceptre unseen.

He set the case carefully on the floor and de-shrunk the sceptre using Pym’s technology. Ever so cautiously he transferred the mind gem back into the sceptre with a pair of tongs, and watched it flash with a blinding blue light as the power was transferred. Blinking against the white burned into his retinas, Steve closed the case and activated his suit. He dropped the sceptre in the corner, hoping it would look like it had been dislodged during the fight. Just as he moved to activate the time travel device, tere was a commotion on the floor below. Through a shattered glass pane Steve could just see Tony Stark swaggering into view, assuring everyone he was fine. Just fine. Back then Steve would have believed Tony’s false show of confidence but now he wondered how any of them had ever fallen for it. Why couldn’t they see the vulnerability and the pain behind his eyes? The worry, the fear? The desperate need to protect others at no matter the cost to himself?

Steve let himself linger perhaps a moment too long, listening to Tony’s voice just one last time.

“I said I was fine, Captain Frisbee, go worry about your own damn self. You know you’re bleeding all over my floors? Not to mention what you did to the upper levels –”

Steve broke into a smile and activated the device before Tony could look up. He shrank instantly and was sucked once more into the dizzying vortex of the quantum realm, with Tony’s voice ringing round his head.

=

_14,000,605 futures. 1 win. They’d agreed to do whatever it took. Whatever the cost. But losing both Nat and Tony seemed too much. Steve stared at Tony’s body as Peter and Pepper sobbed over him. Suddenly Stark seemed so small. Just a man with a brilliant mind and a stubborn determination to do the right thing. Tony Stark hadn’t been created with a super serum or a blast of celestial energy, he hadn’t been bitten by a radio active spider, or born a demi-god. Everything he’d achieved he’d built himself. Steve crumpled to his knees and bowed his head, overcome with a leaden dullness the likes of which he’d never felt before. There was no anger this time because there was nothing he could avenge. There was no yearning to change the past. They had changed the past and this was what had to happen. For the first time since he’d been injected with the serum Steve felt truly powerless._

_He retreated into himself, holding back from the others._

_“I know you’ve always grieved on your own,” Bucky found Steve in his hotel room a few miles north of Stark’s ranch. Pepper had offered them all guest rooms, she was coping admirably in the face of arranging everything, but too many people had descended on the house and Steve didn’t know how to face any of them._

_The truth was he didn’t know how to rally them anymore now this was all over. He’d always been so ready to sacrifice himself, somehow, he’d always thought that was how things would end. The fact that both Nat and Tony had filled those roles for him left him feeling empty. He even found himself shying away from Bucky; retreating to the self-sufficient boy he’d always been. Or, he’d always thought he’d been. In reality, he’d never been anything without Bucky._

_“But, y’know, you really don’t have to.”_

_Locks had never been a problem for Bucky, even…before…so Steve didn’t ask how he’d got into the room, or how he’d found him. Bucky crossed the room and climbed onto the bed beside him, leaving an inch of space between them, letting Steve decide if he wanted to close the gap._

_His transformation at the hands of Shuri had been remarkable, but even still, Steve knew the strength it was taking for Bucky to hold himself together. A fresh wave of guilt rolled through Steve and he let his hand fall into Bucky’s. “I’m sorry.”_

_“So am I.”_

_“How the hell did we end up here?” he wondered out loud._

_“Beats me, we must have really pissed someone off in a different life.”_

_They fell silent, content to bask in each other's company._

_“I don’t know what to do now.” Steve admitted to Bucky, and to himself. Without Tony, without Nat, Steve didn’t know who he was fighting for. The prospect of picking up the shield and donning the persona of Captain America once more suddenly felt nauseating._

_“You find something to live for.” Bucky told him, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. In some respects, it was._

_Steve lifted his gaze to find Bucky’s eyes. That blue stare that had been with him for as long as Steve could remember. It had always been there; picking him up off the floor; mopping his brow during a fever; gleaming in the darkness of a shared foxhole. Suddenly Steve knew what he had to do._


	2. Morag, 2014

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Major Spoilers for Endgame. Seriously. You've been warned.

_Morag, 2014_

Steve snapped back to full-height and staggered forwards on the uneven ground. He breathed heavily, dizzy from the trip, and reeling from the fact that Tony was really dead. Steve fought to catch his breath and stop himself from spiralling, gulping down deep lungfuls of the air to steady himself. The air was safe to breathe, but it contained much more argon that the air on earth and it had a subtly different taste and smell. Steve knew that if he lingered here too long and breathed too much in, it would eventually suffocate him, so he quickly pushed all thoughts of Tony from his mind and swept his gaze around the planet he was standing on.

It was purple. A haze of low orange light filled the horizon and shone through intricately complex rock formations giving the place an ethereal glow. The Garden where they’d confronted Thanos had mostly looked like earth; given, a fantastically beautiful corner of earth with fruits larger than Steve had ever seen before. But this planet was so unmistakably alien that for a moment it took Steve’s breath away. So mesmerised was he, that he failed to notice someone sneaking up on him.

“Freeze.” An American accent told Steve. He felt a blaster pressed into the small of his back, and he cursed his utter stupidity for not taking more care of his surroundings. “Who are you?”

Quill. Steve recognised the voice; they’d met briefly after the battle, but of course this version wouldn’t know who he was.

“Steve Rogers,” he replied honestly.

“Like Captain America?” Quill laughed. He kept the blaster trained on Steve as he circled to face him.

“Yes, actually.”

“Right. And I’m Kevin Bacon.” Quill laughed again.

“The…actor…?” Steve didn’t understand that reference.

“Yeah! You’re from earth? Goddamnit, you know how long I’ve been waiting to meet someone else from earth? This is going to make it so much harder,” he sighed and levelled the blaster with Steve’s face. “Where’s the orb? And where’s my ship?”

“Gone. Nebula must have taken your ship.”

“ _Nebula?_ What the hell would she want with my ship? Did she take the orb?”

“No.”

Quill suddenly seemed to notice the case in Steve’s hand and for a moment they were locked in a standoff. Steve was very conscious of the blaster pointing straight at his head. He’d survived a lot of things, but he wasn’t sure the serum was capable of healing him from that.

 Steve ducked. Quill fired.

The blast soared over Steve’s head as he charged low, tackling Quill to the floor and knocking the blaster from his hand. But that wasn’t the only trick Quill had up his sleeve. He punched Steve in the face and used his jet boots to propel himself free. Without thinking, Steve twirled the hammer and sent it flying at Quill’s chest. The forced knocked him out of the sky and he landed with a dull thud.

Steve recalled the hammer to his hand and hurried over to him, he hadn’t made it more than a few steps when Quill threw a small disc in his direction, it landed on the floor beside his feet and suddenly Steve was trapped by a gravity well. Using the hammer to summon static from the planet’s atmosphere, Steve sent a charge of lighting through the device, deactivating it and freeing himself – but not before Quill flew at him and began pummelling his face and chest with strong, powerful blows. From a force of habit, Steve used the case to shield himself from the punches, he parried it against Quill’s arm and shoved it against his chest, before Quill knocked it from his grip and sent it clattering across the rocky ground. The force popped the lock and the case fell open, revealing the lambent stones glowing in the dim purple light.

“What. Are. Those?” Quill stood transfixed and Steve dropped out of his fighting stance. He breathed deeply. The argon in the air was making him sluggish.

“Infinity stones.”

Quill stooped to touch them and before Steve could yell, “NO, DON’T!” Quill had picked up the Power Stone. There was a blinding flash of purple light and a shockwave rippled out from Quill, knocking Steve back off his feet.

“What the hell was that!” Quill dropped the stone and jumped back from it like it might bite him.

“You’re okay?” Steve staggered to his feet and appraised Quill, his fingertips looked slightly singed, but it was nothing to the extensive burns that had marked Thanos, Banner or Stark.

“Yeah, I think so,” Quill flexed his fingers and the signing faded. “What exactly is an infinity stone?”

Steve gave him brief version of what they were capable of and who might be after them. Quill stared at him, looking more and more perplexed by the second.

“The orb was an infinity stone? Holy shit. I almost sold for a _fraction_ of what it was worth.”

“Quill.”

“Right, right. Deadly, powerful weapons that need to be kept hidden.” He put his hands on his hips and stared down at the small, unassuming gem. “What do you want me to do with it?”

“Take it to the Nova Corp. They’ll keep it safe.” Steve could only hope that was true.

Quill nodded. “Nova Corp.” He finally tore his gaze from the stones and turned to Steve. “How am I supposed to get there without a ship?”

For someone so determined to be an outlaw, it was remarkably easy to convince him to do the right thing.

“Oh, _shit_ ,” Quill suddenly swore up at the sky.

Steve glanced around, instantly alert.

“Bereet,”

“What?” he squinted at the sky but saw nothing other than the swirling grey clouds.

“She was still on my ship.”

Steve stared at Quill in horror.

“Alright, alright, don’t look at me like that. I forgot she was there, okay?”

Steve didn’t even know how to express his flabbergast into words.

“Well, she’s going to be in for a surprise when she wakes up.” At Quill had the decency to look guilty, but he was rapidly going down in Steve’s estimations. “Still leaves us in a pickle. Unless you have a _very_ small ship hidden up your butt,” Quill gestured, to Steve’s slim fitting suit whilst Steve raised a very unimpressed eyebrow. “Then I think we’re stuck here. And that isn’t going to bode well for us, or the stones.”

“Why?”

“I, er, wasn’t the only one looking for the orb. Besides Thanos and Nebula, and Ronan – apparently, Yondu’s looking for it too. One, or more, of them is probably heading here right now.” Quill looked to Steve for a plan.

Steve assessed the situation quickly. The ships were gone. Quill’s rocket boots were not capable of intergalactic flight. Could he use the Pym Particles to shrink Quill and take him into the quantum realm? Steve checked his pocket, but to his dismay saw there were only three tubes left. The rest must have been smashed during the fight. He still had to get to Vormir, Asgard, 1970s New Jersey, and home. He didn’t have enough particles left as it was, let alone wasting any more. His gaze fell on the stones, a crazy plan forming in his mind.

“What happened when you touched the stone?” he asked Quill.

“I felt this _surge_ of energy, like... nothing I’ve ever felt before. I felt _powerful_.”

“Do you think you could wield it, without dying?”

“I dunno, man,” Quill shook his head and laughed nervously. “You just said it was capable of destroying an entire planet, I don’t think I want to mess with it,”

“Not the power stone. The blue one. The space stone. I’ve seen people use it to open a portal and travel across the galaxy.” Steve crouched beside the case and stared at the gleaming blue gem. He’d also seen people touch it and be vaporised instantly.

Quill flexed his hand. “I could try.”

“I should warn you; I’ve seen it destroy people too.” Steve admitted, glancing up at Quill.

“There’s only one way to find out.” Quill extended a hand, but hesitated. “You really are Captain America, aren’t you?”

“I really am.”

“Didn’t you get frozen in ice, or something?”

Steve smiled. From what he'd heard Quill had grown up during the 1980's on earth. There seemed to have been a resurgence in Captain America paraphenalia at the time. “I did. Until they defrosted me.”

 “Just like Han Solo?” Quill looked and sounded awed.

“I guess so.” Steve gave him a small smile.

“Tell me, is Footloose still the greatest movie ever made?”

Steve blanked. ‘Footloose’ wasn’t a movie that had ever appeared on any of his catch-up lists. “I… don’t know.” he decided to answer honestly.

“It will be.” Quill grinned. “Alright. Let’s do this.” He touched the stone which instantly glowed a brilliant, electric blue. Quill closed his eyes and furrowed his brow in concentration, the gem glowed brighter still, scorching Quill’s hands. Steve was just about to tell him to stop, that they’d find another way when an oval portal burned through the air behind him. Quill released the stone and slumped onto his knees. His breath was ragged and his hands were shaking, but he was very much still alive.

The portal hung in the air, about three feet off the ground; a window into a bright sunlight plaza with people hurrying across in every direction.

“Come on,” Steve closed the case and grabbed it, dragging Quill through the portal behind him. It closed the moment they’d stepped through.

=

_General Ross wanted a debrief, which was only to be expected. Half of the world’s population had reappeared five years after the snap, without knowing what had happened to them, or how, or why. There were casualties, of course there were. Steve tried not to think about the people who had been snapped from planes, or on highways. The collateral damage from the original snap and then the undoing were both impossibly high. Steve tried to tell himself that it was all for the best, but it was a lie that was getting harder to swallow._

_He stood at attention as he gave Ross the report, running through the details without making eye-contact. He knew better than to blame Ross for the dissolution of the Avengers; Tony had been right. It was Steve’s own arrogance and fear that had driven a wedge between them and scattered them across the globe. It was Steve’s fault that when Thanos came for the stones, earth’s mightiest heroes hadn’t stood together to stop him._

_“Someone needs to return the stones through time.” Ross concluded._

_“Yes sir.” Steve agreed._

_“Do you have a plan?”_

_“Working on it.”_

_“Good.”_

_Ross looked tired. Maybe he did take this all a lot more personally than Steve had imagined possible. But Steve wasn’t quite ready to feel sorry for him just yet._

_“Sir, permission to be dismissed?”_

_“Not yet, Captain. I wanted to talk to you about James Buchanan Barnes.”_

_Steve tensed. Seriously? He’d helped save the world_ again, _and Ross still wanted to hunt down Bucky up like a fugitive?_

_“I’m recommending him for a full pardon. I have done. It’s done. He’s cleared of all criminal charges.”_

_Steve stared at him in disbelief._

_“I thought you’d like to be the one to tell him.”_

_“Sir.”_

_Ross nodded and gave Steve a small, sad smile. “Dismissed.”_

_He didn’t stick around to let Ross change his mind. He was already half way out the door when Ross called out, “Wait,”_

_Steve gripped the door jamb, and froze in the doorway. He stared straight ahead, half in mind to just leave without listening._

_“Thank you, Captain. The universe owes you a great debt.”_

_Trembling, Steve nodded, and hastily fled; leaving an indent on the doorframe behind him._


	3. Vormir, 2014

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *EDIT* I missed out a pretty big chunk at the start of the flashback! It's been updated now.

_Vormir, 2014_

“Well, here we are – the most depressing and deserted planet, right at the centre of celestial existence.” Quill stated as the ship exited the last jump point above a very desolate looking planet. “You sure this is the right place?”

“Certain.”

“Okay, then.” Quill landed smoothly on a patch of flat land at the edge of a glassy lake. A lone mountain rose above the skyline; it was the only landmark of any kind they’d witnessed during a scouting orbit.

Nova Prime had been a rather dubious as to why Peter Quill, a known ravager and wanted criminal was handing over an Infinity Stone to their custody. But after Quill gave a rather poorly worded, albeit heartfelt speech about wanting to protect the galaxy and all of the…people who live in it, they began to take him seriously. They’d even offered to clear his name and gifted him with a ship to show their gratitude.

Steve had watched the proceedings from the side lines, letting Quill take the glory that should rightfully be his. So much in this timeline was already changed, Steve felt he owed him at least that, especially since Gamora had been taken from Quill’s future. The fact that Quill didn’t know her and wouldn’t miss her didn’t make it any less wrong; after all that sounded dangerously close to Thanos’ line of reasoning.

Steve glanced over at Quill who was busy shutting down the engine and running all of the post-hyper-jump checks to make sure nothing had been damaged in the flight. The sound system had cut out with the engine, but Quill was still humming to himself – a tune Steve vaguely recognised, but not one he could name.

“Sure you don’t need me to come and help?”

“No. You’ve done enough.”

“I actually don’t feel like I really did anything,” Quill admitted.

“You did more than you know. You saved the universe.” Steve smiled.

“Hah. If you say so.” He shrugged and grinned back. “What did that Nova lady call us?”

“Guardians of the galaxy,” Steve supplied.

Quill repeated it quietly to himself. “It’s got a nice ring to it. Think there’d be any money in it?”

Steve could only laugh. He’d laughed more in the past few hours aboard Quill’s ship then he had in the last few years combined. As much as it surprised him, he was going to miss Quill’s company. There was so much Steve wanted to tell him, it was heavy on the tip of his tongue, but he daren’t cause any more damage to the timeline, so he simply bade Quill goodbye and clambered down from the ship.

“Goodbye, Captain. Make sure you watch Footloose when you get back to earth.”

“I’ll try,” Steve promised. “Goodbye, Starlord.”

Quill’s face broke into a beaming smile. He gave Steve his best salute and then he was departing; the ship disappeared, leaving a wake of hexagons rippling across the sky, and Steve found himself standing alone on yet another alien planet. The air here tasted even stranger than it had on Morag. He surveyed the snow-capped mountain rising before him, and found himself recalling a different snowy peak. He squeezed his eyes shut trying to block the flashes of the snow strewn alps which threatened to flooded his mind. The train. Bucky. He shifted hammer and the case in his grip and forced the memories down. He had a job to do.

Strong-willed as he was, Steve’s perseverance could only do so much to keep the flashbacks at bay. As he pressed on up the path carved into the rocky mountainside, Steve found himself reliving his last few moments with Bucky in 1944.

_“Remember the time I made you ride the cyclone on Coney Island?”_

_“Yeah and I threw up?”_

_“This isn’t payback, is it?”_

_“Now why would I do that?”_

Steve was so lost in his own memories, that when he encountered Redskull guarding the top of the mountain, he momentarily forgot where and when he was. Instinctively he swung the hammer and sent it flying at Redskull, only for it to fly right through him; revealing his insubstantial, mist-like form. The hammer snapped back into Steve’s hand as he stood, utterly perplexed.

“Captain America. We meet again at last.”

“You’re alive…” Steve gaped. “How? The tesseract…”

“It cast me out.” Redskull hissed. He loomed over Steve, the frayed ends of his cloak swirling impossibly above the ground. “It banished me here and reduced me to this!” he railed. “Guiding others to a treasure I cannot possess. But you,” he studied Steve for a moment. “You do not seek the stone; you possess them already.” He flew at Steve as if to take them from him, but his vaporous form whistled through Steve, chilling him to the bone.

“I’m here to undo the bargain. Natasha’s soul for the stone.” Steve said with determination.

“It cannot be undone. As I told the archer, it was an everlasting transaction.” The Redskull floated to the edge of the cliff.

“There must be a way -”

“There is NOT.” The Redskull snapped.

Steve stared him down but the Redskull just sneered. The last fleeting hope of saving Natasha was snuffed out with a devasting blow. Steve’s shoulders slumped.

“Always, you think small. One life. One nation. You are in possession of three infinity stones, Captain. The universe is yours to command.”

“I’m here to return the stone.” Steve said simply. “I never wanted to command. I only wanted to protect.”

“And that, will always be your failing.”

Steve gripped the hammer and shook his head. “No. It’s always been my strength.”

“Very well. Cast the stone off the cliff. It will be yours no longer.”

Somehow Steve knew it would safe to touch this stone. He eased it from the slot in the case and let it rest his palm. It was neither hot nor cool, barely noticeable in his hand beyond the weight that felt oddly heavy for a stone of its size. Steve closed his fist around the gem and thought of Gamora, and most of all, of Natasha; who had both given their lives in sacrifice for the stone.

Tears leaked from his eyes and rolled off his chin as hurled the stone in a great overarm throw off the side of the cliff. He didn’t hear it land. But there was a flash. Then darkness. He woke up, submerged in a shallow pool of lukewarm water and he knew the stone was gone.

 

=

_They gave Nat a proper send off the night before Tony’s funeral; lighting a bonfire away from the lake house and drinking finest russian vodka as they swapped stories. She’d touched their lives and helped them all out in ways Steve knew Nat hadn’t realised. He drank deeply – not for the first time wishing the serum ddin’t stop him from getting drunk._

_“No, no,” Clint shook his head as Banner asked for the sixth time. “What happened in Budapest is between Nat and I.” but he smiled fondly at whatever memory it kindled._

_Gradually everyone dispersed, until only Steve and Bucky were sat by the fire. They watched the flames lick the sky and kick sparks of embers up into the night._

_“I think I knew her,” Bucky said quietly. “…before…”_

_Steve didn’t ask, when Bucky was brave enough to venture facts about his life it was best just to let him speak._

_“They called it the red room. A training ground for master assassins, spies, covert operatives. I was their last exam.” He took a long drink from the bottle he was holding, but he remained looking as sober as Steve felt. “They weren’t expected to get past me. It was a test of their resiliance; how quickly did they get back up? How inventive were their techniques? Nat was the only one who beat me. I think she might have killed me if they hadn’t called her off.” He spoke matter of factly, like the were discussing the weather. It was chilling._

_Steve was at a loss for words. “She never told me about that,”_

_“It was probaby something she tried hard to forget. I know I have.”_

_Bucky didn’t mention the other time he and Nat had met; when the Winter Soldier shot through her to get to the engineer she was exscorting for Shield.  Steve didn’t bring it up. He finished his bottle and stood, gathering the rest of the empties littered around the fire. “We should make a move. Early start tomorrow.”_

_Bucky continued to stare straight into the fire. “I’m not going to go. I don’t think Pepper or Morgan want me there.”_

_“Of course they do.”_

_Bucky just gave Steve a look._

_“It wasn’t you.” Steve argued. “It was hydra. They know that.”_

_“I don’t think other people compartmentalise things as easy as you and I.” Bucky sighed._

_“You deserve to pay your respects, Buck, same as everyone else.”_

_“I killed Howard.” He whispered. “What if it had been Peggy, would you be so quick to forgive?”_

_“But it wasn’t.” Steve stood firm. They’d skirted around this conversation before, but he’d always managed to deflect it._

_“It could have been. She was a target. She was risk assessed. They concluded her death was more likely to make her a martyr and bring people togtether than sowing dischord they sought to cause.” Bucky screwed his eyes shut. “I hate that I know that.”_

_Steve took a cautious step forwards and placed his hands on Bucky’s shoulder. “It wasn’t you. If she had been killed…I would have hunted down hydra and burnt them all to the ground far sooner.” He promised, giving Bucky’s shoulder a squeeze. “Come on, let’s go to bed. You’re coming with us tomorrow. Captain’s orders.”_

_Buxkt shook his head but didn't say anything else on the matter as they sloshed a bucket of water of the fire and stomped out the remaining embers. It was a long trek back to the hotel, but they walked in an companionable silence, with the stars stretched overhead._

_“I didn’t bring a suit.” Bucky protested, weakly as they unlocked the door to their room._

_“Everyhting you wear is black. You’ll be fine.” Steve assured him with a smile._

_He peeled bucky’s black jacket from his shoulders and they fell together, making the most of the hotel’s king size bed. Something had changed between them, since the snap. Steve couldn’t put his finger on what it was and it wasn’t something he really wanted to explore. But despite their intimacy, despite the lightness returning to Bucky’s eyes and speech; there remained a tangible gap. Steve wondered if he was holding himself back because he knew what he had to do._

=

__

_After the funeral they scattered back to their corners of the world, of the universe. Steve went back to New York to see if anything could be salvaged from the Avengers compound. It was in ruins. He surveyed the crater where the main building had once stood, now half submerged in water, with exhaustion. It was going to take a while before it could be drained, levelled, and re-built. It seemed like a herculean task which Steve didn’t have the stomach to face._

__

_The sun broke through the thick grey clouds which clumped together in the sky, sending a shaft of sunlight to dance across the water. a bird of prey circled overhead and the wind rustled gently through the trees which hadn’t been flattened in the battle. He closed his eyes and let the sun warm his face for a moment. When he opened them again, Bucky was standing beside him. Steve was never going to get used to his new uncanny stealth._

__

_“You’re going to replace the stones.” Bucky said. He didn’t phrase it as a question. How long had he known? It was a conversation Steve had been putting off for a while now._

__

_“Someone has to.”_

__

_“And you’ve always had to lead by example.” Bucky sighed._

__

_Steve turned to glance at Bucky and found him standing stoically, his hands in his pockets and his jaw jutted with a certain defiance. His hair was longer than he’d ever used to wear it and stubble clung to the curve of his jaw, but there was a familiarity creeping back in the shine behind his eyes._

__

_Steve shot him an apologetic smile but Bucky continued to stare straight ahead._

__

_“You’re not coming back, are you?” His jaw clenched as he spoke._

__

_It was the truth that Steve had been struggling to admit to himself. His shoulders sagged and he exhaled deeply. “I don’t know,” he said simply, searching the horizon as if it might hold the answers he didn’t have. “I’m torn. I’ve spent so long trying to get you back. I don’t want to leave you now.”_

__

_“But,” Bucky prompted, his voice sounded far gentler than Steve could have hoped for._

__

_“But I don’t belong here.” Steve took a steadying breath. “Every moment since they took me out of the ice has felt like a bad dream. I feel homesick for somewhere I can’t ever return to. It’s like…like I’ve stepped into the wrong room and the door has disappeared behind me. I know that my old life, Peggy, Dugan, Jones, Falsworth, Mortia, Dernier – they’re all on the other side, but I can’t reach them.” He hadn’t intended to say so much but it had been so long since he’d been able to talk to someone about it, that it all came spilling out. “I long to wake up in my bed at HQ with Colonel Phillips yelling orders at me for my next mission, or in a foxhole, freezing my ass off with you. Or, better still, in our crowded apartment in Brooklyn before you went off to war, before everything changed forever.”_

__

_Steve dared to steal another sideways glance at Bucky and this time found a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth._

__

_“I went back to Brooklyn when they first woke me up.” Steve admitted. He’d gone back plenty since then, but the first venture had been seared into his mind. He couldn’t believe how much a place could change in seventy years. “Our building was gone. It’s an office block now, with a Starbucks downstairs.”_

__

_“I know.”_

__

_Steve was surprised. Bucky didn’t elaborate on when he’d returned there, and Steve knew better than to ask._

__

_“The picture house we used to visit’s now a Starbucks too.” Bucky added._

__

_“They’re everywhere.” Steve commented, fighting against the flood of memories that threatened to spill over in his mind._

__

_“And the coffee doesn’t even taste good.”_

__

_“When I dream, that’s where I am; our rooms in Brooklyn. I’m still skinny.” You’re still smiling, he thought, but didn’t say. “Sometimes when I wake, I let myself imagine that it’s true. But of course, it never is.”_

__

_Bucky nodded. He knew. Of course, he did._

__

_“Come with me.” Steve whispered suddenly. He turned to face Bucky and reached for his arm, freeing it from Bucky’s jacket pocket and holding on to it steadfast, searching for any sign in Bucky’s face of the same longing homesickness that welled in Steve’s heart._

__

_“Where? Back to 1944? I think you’re forgetting how shitty the past was.” Bucky scoffed. “No, I really do mean that,” he replied to Steve’s affronted expression. “No electric lights, no electric heating. No internet. No antibiotics. No fast food.” Bucky gave Steve a sad smile.  “You should go. But I can’t go with you.” He pulled his arm from Steve’s grip and scratched absently at his collar bone, almost clawing at the hollow at the base of his throat. “I didn’t get here quite as suddenly as you did,” he said slowly, not meeting Steve’s gaze. “I saw snatches of the years as they passed. Technology got better; the weapons got worse. I started a few wars, but plenty started on their own. People were persecuted – they still are. I don’t – I_ can’t _live through that again.”_

__

_Guilt and embarrassed stupidity surged through Steve. “Bucky, I’m so sorry –”_

__

_Bucky shook his head to cut him off. When he finally looked at Steve again his eyes were glistening. “I survived. It was hell. The things I did…” he hesitated and shivered. Steve wanted to pull him into a hug, but he knew that was the last thing Bucky wanted right them. “But I’m okay now, I really am. And now, maybe, I can do some good in the world.” He managed a feeble smile. “Shuri’s launching a science program in Brooklyn, specialising in prosthetics; she’s asked me to help out.” As he spoke an adorable mixture of pride and nerves crossed his face._

__

_“That’s great,” Steve gushed, this time he couldn’t himself from surging forwards to hug Bucky. Bucky didn’t exactly pull away, but his hands caught Steve’s forearms to keep him slightly at bay. There was clearly more he wanted to say._

__

_“Sam told me what he used to do at the VA. I’ve had my share of experience with PTSD. I think after all this there’ll be more than few people needing some help in that area. I might have a few insights to share.”_

__

_Steve didn’t know how to respond to that, so he just smiled._

__

_“You should go.” Bucky concluded. “I’ll be fine here, Steve, but you won’t.”_

__

_It was what Bucky had been building to, but it still hit Steve like a ton of bricks. Tears that he’d been holding back for days, for years, spilled from him. “I can’t leave you.”_

__

_“Yes, you can.” Bucky gave Steve’s arms a gentle, reassuring squeeze._

__

_“I promised I’d be with you ‘til the end of the line.” Steve protested._

__

_“This is it, pal. All change here.” Bucky smiled despite the thick, hot tears, that rolled down his cheeks. He gave Steve an encouraging nod and then leant to press their foreheads together. Closing his eyes, Steve felt sobs rack through his shoulders. They gripped each other tightly to keep each other standing._

__

_“Promise me one thing,” Bucky breathed into the space between them._

__

_“Anything.”_

__

_“Find him. Me. Don’t let me live through that again.”_

__

_Steve brought a hand up to cup Bucky’s face and force their eyes to meet. He used his thumb to swipe away the tears from Bucky’s cheek and planted a soft kiss there instead._

__

_“Why do you think I’m going back?”_

__


	4. Asgard, 2013

_Asgard, 2013_

The frequent shrinking and re-sizing took its toll on Steve. _Discombobulated_ , Banner had said. That was certainly one word for it. Steve exited the quantum realm in a quiet corner of Asgard and promptly staggered against a solid stone wall where he proceeded to throw up on the pristine paved floor. His head ached, his body was bruised and his emotions were a wreck. He wanted to crawl under a blanket and sleep for a year; but there were still two stones to return and someone that needed saving. Steve blamed his exhaustion on the amount of Argon he’d inhaled, amongst who knew what else, and he took deep calming breaths of fresh Asgardian air in an attempt to revive himself. It worked, a little.

Asgard was beautiful. A city of tall golden towers surrounded by sparking clear waters and bordered by snow-capped mountains. It looked like something from Fantasia, that ridiculous Disney film Steve had forced Bucky to see with him at the picture house in 1940, back before the war had impacted their lives and everything had started to go wrong.

Steve dragged a hand across his mouth, feeling woozier than he’d like to admit. When this was over and done with, he would happily never visit another alien planet again.

He followed Thor’s instructions, creeping through the vaulted corridors and running lithely across the marble floors, until he found Jane Foster standing on a balcony overlooking the city. She was beautiful, draped in an Asgardian style robe with soft dark hair that played about gently in the breeze. There was something in the set of her shoulders, something in her stance, that made Steve recall Peggy in her red dress. That only helped make what he had to do next even harder. He wished there was a way of leaving the stone in this timeline without putting Jane’s life at risk, a way that would save Thor’s mother and prevent the attack on London. But Banner had been pretty clear in his instructions; the stones needed to be returned with as little disruption to their original time streams as possible. So, hating himself very step of the way, Steve removed the reality stone from the case and inserted it into the injection tube Rocket had devised. He activated his suit; ready for a quick getaway, and crept up behind Jane, injecting the ether into her neck. She just had time to round on him with her eyes blazing defiance, before the ether took hold and she slumped unconscious at his feet.

Steve couldn’t leave her like that. He rolled her into the recovery position, taking a moment to sweep her hair from her face, before calling out for help. Only when he heard footsteps hurrying towards them, did Steve activate the time space GPS – leaving the hammer placed by Jane’s side.

=

_Steve hoped it would take Banner a few weeks to rebuild the platform. The original had been so thoroughly destroyed by Thanos’ ship crashing through it, not to the mention the subsequent missiles and battle which had raged on top of it, that nothing was salvageable. But with Rocket and Pym’s help – and thanks to Tony’s complete schematic archive backed-up at the lake house - it was finished it a matter of days._

_For a while, Steve had stayed to oversee and assist where he could, floundering with technology that was completely beyond him, before Banner had snapped and told him to get lost until it was complete. Steve was only too happy to comply. He felt a little guilty when Bucky unveiled a jet he’d borrowed from Shuri and whisked him away from New York completely, but what the hell; when was the last time he’d done something purely for himself?_

_They tried to cram a lifetime together into a few days, and they did a damn good job of it; watching the sunrise from the highest peak in Wakanda, and catching it set behind the Taj Mahal. They revisited old haunts (ones which hadn’t been converted into fast food joints or hipster bars) and made new memories in cities across the world. It became increasingly clear to Steve that Bucky hadn’t been lying; he was going to be just fine in the future. He navigated the modern world with the same calm confidence he’d exuded in the ‘40s; using his phone to find the best viewpoints and dive bars off the beaten track - where the proceeded to trounce the locals in darts, or pool, or drinking contests._

_They even managed to track down the little Irish village where Steve’s grandparents had come from before they emigrated to New York in the 1880s, and spent a morning hiking through the rolling green countryside, where no one recognised them and where they could pretend for a moment that they didn’t have another care in the world._

_Of course, the illusion couldn’t last forever. Steve’s phone chimed with a text from Banner; the machine was ready._

_“We should head back.” He sighed._

_“Wait,” Bucky held Steve’s arm and stopped him from moving. “Just a little longer.”_

_Steve didn’t know what they were waiting for, but he was happy to sit on the low stone wall for as long as Bucky liked. When Bucky leant to rest his head on Steve’s shoulder, a warm content glow thrummed inside Steve’s chest._

_“I’m going to miss you,” Steve said. “So, fucking much.”_

_“Me too.” They sat like that for a while, watching the horizon and taking comfort in the feel of their shoulders pressed together, until Bucky reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small brown wallet. It was made of soft leather with neat stitching along the edges. “Uh, this is probably stupid.” Bucky swallowed. “But you’re always looking at that damn compass, and I thought you might want an upgrade.”_

_“What –” Steve began to ask as Bucky handed the wallet over. He opened it out to reveal two windowed pockets on the inner fold where people normally kept their ID. Instead, Bucky had filled them each with a photograph. The first was a freeze frame from an old video reel of Steve and Bucky at an army camp somewhere. The camera had caught them mid-laugh, you could practically see the joy radiating from their eyes. The second was a group shot taken at the party Stark had thrown before Ultron had wreaked havoc. Steve didn’t remember it being taken, but they were all there, smiling at the camera. Nat had her arm thrown around his neck and Stark was pulling a ridiculous non-grin behind a pair of huge purple tinted lenses. Thor, Sam, Rhodey, Bruce, Clint and Maria were all there too. Steve’s chest felt oddly tight.  “Where did you get these?” Steve was awestruck._

_“Sam helped me.” Bucky gave Steve’s shoulder a gently nudge with his own. “I thought you might like a keepsake.”_

_“Thank you.” He really, truly meant it._

_Photographs were hard to come by in the 40s. People took it for granted nowadays that they could capture anything they wanted to easily, and cheaply, but…Steve had hadn’t had any photos of Bucky. There were pictures taken_ of _them of course. But Steve hadn’t been allowed to keep any copies. Getting a picture of Peggy had been hard enough, they’d had to steal it from an intelligence file at HQ. It had been Bucky’s idea – a surefire way of winning back her favour, he’d promised. Looking back, Steve wasn’t entirely sure it hadn’t been a joke. There might have been an undercurrent of sarcasm in his voice that Steve hadn’t picked up on. Regardless, it had certainly got Peggy’s attention, and it was one of the few possessions which had stayed with him in the ice. The compass didn’t just remind him of Peggy. When he held it, Steve was right back where he belonged; pouring over maps with the howling commandos, scouting sniper positions with Bucky, following hydra’s trail to try and wipe Redskull off the earth for good. It signified home. It was, literally, the only thing that could orientate him when he felt an overwhelming sense of_ dépaysement _; Dernier’s word for homesickness, disorientation, the feeling of being far from home._

_Steve wondered if Bucky knew all of that._

_“C’mon. You’ve got to set the universe to rights.” Bucky stood and offered his hand to pull Steve up off the wall._

_They flew in silence for the first half of the journey, watching the endless waters of the Atlantic drift below them. It had been a while since Steve had sat up in the cockpit for such a flight and he found it oddly familiar. Somehow even the clouds looked the same._

_“Is it selfish to go back?” Steve broke the stillness. The last time he’d flown this route he’d been ready to sacrifice everything to save the world – he_ had _sacrificed everything; it wasn’t his fault he’d survived._

_“Don’t you deserve to be selfish for once in a while?” Bucky countered._

_“But leaving the world without Captain America…”_

_“No offence, truly, but there are plenty of other people to take your place. You’re not exactly leaving the world undefended.” Bucky reasoned._

_“You should take the shield.”_

_“No way. Not a chance in hell.” Bucky shook his head firmly._

_“You were always a better solider than me.”_

_“Being a solider isn’t want makes you Captain America, pal.” Bucky scoffed. “It’s not the shield either, or the serum. It’s that you don’t give up. You don’t back down. And you stick to your principles. You were Captain America long before that doctor got his hands on you. All he did was ensure you’d heal yourself when you got beaten to a bloody pulp. You never did know when to back down from a fight.”_

_Steve dipped his head and smiled. Bucky was right, there were plenty of more qualified people than he to defend the world, but that didn’t mean he shouldn’t fight with them. The same had been true in 1942 when Steve had tried to enlist in the army from every borough in New York._

_“In Wakanda, it’s tradition to pass on the mantle of the Black Panther whenever the heir is ready. If the king were to retain it for himself beyond that time,_ that _would be considered selfish.” Bucky said. “You’ve done enough, Steve. You can’t keep sacrificing yourself for everyone else; there’ll be nothing left.”_

_“If not me, then who?”_

_“You know who.” Bucky urged gently._

_Steve knew who Bucky meant and for the first time since he’d entertained the idea of leaving, it started to feel like less like he was running away and abandoning them all, and more like the natural, rightful progression of things. “Sam.”_

_“Sam.” Bucky agreed._


	5. New Jersey, 1970

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter were this fic finally earns it's mature rating.

_New Jersey, 1970_

The previous trip back to 1970 had been bittersweet. Now it was just bitter. Steve tried hard to ignore the that fact that Tony was somewhere on the compound right now. He was also trying very hard not to think about time he’d been there with Nat. Or that fact that whilst he and Stark had been taking a pleasant trip down memory lane, Natasha had been on Vormir fighting for the right to sacrifice her life for the fate of the universe. But the problem with trying not to think about something often means that’s all you end up thinking about.

Steve stopped behind the cover of a barracks hut, placing his hand on the wooden wall to steady himself.

 _“Do you want to play game?”_ Nat grinned at Steve through his memory, her personality peeking through the polished veneer she normally hid behind.

Steve balled his hand into a fist and gave the wall a light punch to vent his frustration. Part of him had been so sure they could save Nat by returning the stone. He realised that up until that point, he hadn’t fully accepted she was gone. Steve lowered his hand, ignoring the fist shaped indent he left behind, and stared up at the clouds. His eyes welled up and a thick lump formed at the back of his throat.

“I’m sorry, Nat,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry.” When he felt a tear leak down his cheek, he hastily pulled himself back to the present; coughing the lump away and blinking his eyes clear.

One stone to go. He could hold himself together for that long. He took a few quick breaths to psych himself up and shook out shoulders. He could do this.

With the MPs already on the look out for suspicious personnel that matched his description, Steve took extra care sneaking down the lower level research labs where the tesseract should be stored.

He strode with purpose, exuding the confidence that he had every right to be there, and managed to make it down without incident, finding the case that Tony had lasered through fairly easily.  The space stone look oddly small sitting in the cube-shaped slot meant for the tesseract. What would the scientists make of its sudden change in appearance? Steve couldn't help but wonder. Hopefully they’d put it down to a natural decay, or an experiment gone wrong. Banner didn’t think it would matter to the timeline that the tesseract was changed; all that mattered was that the stones were returned to the timelines at the moment they’d been taken to ensure the natural flow of time wasn’t disrupted. Steve could only help he was right. He closed the case and pushed it back onto the shelf, checking that the coast was still clear; the stone wasn’t the only thing he was here for.

As he'd been scouting for Pym’s office on the floor directory last time, Steve had noticed an entry for one Dr. A. Zola on the lower levels. Zola had been instrumental in the Winter Soldier program. If anyone had documents on when and where Bucky was being held – he would. The intel that Natasha had found for Steve, and the Shield data which had been spilled across the internet hadn’t contained any records pertaining to Bucky’s location until he was accredited with the assassination of a Chinese diplomat in 1968. That was too late, far too late. Steve wanted to find him as quickly after 1944 as he could. Part of him wanted to stop Bucky from ever getting on that goddamn train in the first place, but who knew what else would change if he prevented that. Steve knew that he wouldn’t have been driven by the same single-minded determination to hunt down Red Skull, and he certainly wouldn’t have been as ready sacrifice himself by crashing the plane if he’d known Bucky was waiting for him back home. No, his only option to find out where Hydra had been hiding Bucky after they’d found him in the snow, and get him out of there as fast as possible.

Steve straightened out the shirt of the uniform he’d stolen from the laundry room, and crept through the storage unit towards the offices at the back. Voices filtered through the racks of equipment and Steve flattened himself against a shelf full of boxes, keeping silent and watching them pass by the end of the row without noticing him. He gave it another few moments to make sure the coast was clear, and darted across the aisle, keeping to the shadows and trying to make his footsteps as light as possible.

Zola’s door was the third from the end. Steve peered through the glass window to make sure it was empty, before breaking through the lock with a forceful shove. He closed the door behind him and scanned the room. A desk was pushed against one wall, with racks and racks of filing cabinets stacked against the other. The entire back half of the room was filled with banks of old computer equipment. Steve ignored the computer and began to systematically work his way through the filing cabinets. There was nothing filed under ‘Winter Soldier’, or ‘Barnes’, but Steve hadn’t really expected there to have been. He tried ‘Red Room’, ‘Siberia’, and every other tenuous link he could think of, ‘Dnipropetrovsk’, ‘Case File 17’, ‘Section 2C’, any of the other information which had been printed on the file Natasha had found for him and which Steve and Sam had poured over for months. Still nothing. But then, it would have been rather ill-advised for Zola to keep that sort of information in a filing cabinet; even if said filing cabinet was hidden at the bottom of a secret research facility hidden in a secure army compound. Steve glanced around for likely hiding spots. The walls weren’t thick enough to house a safe; the desk wasn’t fixed to the floor. The only things which were bolted down were the computer towers at the back of the room, and - unlike the rest of them - one wasn’t blinking.

Steve prised the case off the side of the machine and let out an audible sigh of relief when he found a small stack of manila folders inside. _Department X, Project Alsos, Operation Lernaean_. Steve flicked through looking for anything that might be a reference to Bucky and finally found it. Medical records for ‘Asset 32557038’. That had been Bucky’s serial number in the war, and the records mentioned a severe laceration to the left arm. It couldn’t have been a coincidence. Steve read through it all as quickly as he could, trying to decipher what it meant and how it could help him track Bucky down. He was so engrossed that it took him a while to notice that there were voices in the corridor, and that they were getting louder. He shoved the folders back into the computer and slotted the casing back into place, just as the MPs stormed into the room and clubbed him over the head with a baton.

=

“Who are you?”

Steve regained consciousness just in time for a fist to collide with his head. He rocked back in the chair he was handcuffed to before another fist hit him hit him in the stomach. Winded, he slumped forwards coughing and spluttering blood down the front his shirt.

“Who do you work for?”

Steve spat a mouthful of blood on the floor and took a deep, ragged breath. His nose was definitely broken and his mouth was so full of blood it was hard to breathe. Fuck. And it had all been going so well.

“He ain’t gonna talk.”

“He will.”

There were two MPs towering over Steve, glaring down at him with menacing smirks. He rolled his head stare back at them and considered his situation.  He could break through the handcuffs easily enough, and fighting past the MPs wouldn’t be a problem. These were he days before CCTV so no one was watching the room, it was what lay beyond the room that gave Steve cause for concern. They’d stripped the time-space-GPS from him and taken it who knew where. Without it, Steve was trapped in 1970 which was late, far too late. By this point Hydra had already been torturing Bucky for twenty-five years. Steve couldn’t let that stand. But nor did he fancy trying to fight his way through the whole complex trying to find the device.

As he was thinking, the door opened and a third MP stuck their head round the door to whisper urgently with the one who had punched Steve in the stomach. Steve didn’t catch the whole conversation, but he heard “Director Carter” and that was enough to spur him into motion. He couldn’t let Peggy see him; he couldn’t cause another timeline to fracture.

“How did you get passed security?” the other MP demanded after the door had been closed once more. He followed the question up with a kick so forceful it broke Steve’s ribs and threatened to tip the chair. Steve used the momentum to his advantage. Breaking the chain on the handcuffs with a decisive snap, he spun with the chair, pirouetting and grabbing it by the legs to swing it up in a strong arc that collided with the MP’s face. Steve let the chair drop and punched the other MP with one, two, strong blows followed up by a solid kick that sent him flying into the wall. They both slumped to the floor out cold.

Steve straightened his shirt and wiped the blood from his nose before hurrying from the room. Mercifully his belongings hadn’t been processed yet and were sitting on a table outside of the door. Steve scooped them up and ran – donning as much of the QR suit as he could manage mid-sprint. An alarm sounded somewhere and a red light bulb began to blink above the corridor.

Steve banked around a corner, bouncing off the opposing wall before charging towards a door at the far end. He slipped the QR suit gloves over his hands and was tapping in the time and date for his next destination when the door at the end of the corridor opened and a group of soldiers charged through.

“There he is!”

Steve glanced up at them and froze. Leading the charge was Peggy. They locked eyes and for a moment neither of them moved.

“Steve?”

The soldiers swarmed at him. Steve tore his eyes from Peggy and dived into a room off the corridor, activating the time travel device as he leapt; falling-shrinking-speeding into the quantum realm before he hit the floor.

Peggy’s look of confusion and the note of hope in her voice drove into Steve’s chest like a dagger as he fell through time.

 

=

_“Please don’t tell me you’re going to spend your last night on earth studying.”_

_Steve looked up from where he was sitting on the floor at the foot of his bed, surrounded by the briefing notes Banner had put together for him._

_“I need to know this.” Steve defended himself. He had to put each of the stones back at the right times, in the right places. He needed to know that information inside out._

_“You know it already.” Bucky countered. He slipped into the room and sat on the edge of the bed beside Steve, letting his knees brushing against Steve’s shoulder in the most distracting way. It was true, he knew the information inside out already; he’d been through the briefings with each of the team before they’d departed for the ‘Time Heist Part 1’. Steve let the file detailing Morag’s coordinates and atmospheric conditions fall into his lap and he tipped his head to rest against Bucky’s leg._

_“It’s not my last night on earth. Just my last night in 2023.”_

_“And your last night with me.”_

_“I’ll see you again.” Steve smiled. “I might be old and grey, but I plan on living past a hundred. Besides, you always did say I needed to age into my personality.”_

_Bucky gave a soft laugh and dipped his head, shaking it from side to side. Steve frowned and pushed himself up so he was sitting on the bed bedside Bucky. “What is it?”_

_“I didn’t think you’d fully realised.”_

_“Realised what?”_

_“You won’t grow old in this timeline.”_

_Steve frowned. His breath hitched. He didn’t follow._

_“Don’t do that. That pout you pull when you don’t understand something. It’s distracting.” Bucky chided, delaying._

_Steve tried to clear his expression, but his confusion lingered. “What do you mean?”_

_Bucky sighed. “Science never was your strong suit. Y’know, for someone who’s life has pretty much been a science fiction adventure for the last however-many-years, you’d’ve thought you might have picked up a basic understanding of the subject.”_

_“There’s nothing basic about quantum physics, or time travel.” Steve defended himself. But Bucky was right, science had never been his area. Bucky was the one who had dragged them to all of the science fairs and expos in their youth. Steve had always been mystified and baffled by all of it._

_“Touché.” Bucky continued to stare the floor. “You won’t grow old in this timeline, Steve. The moment you go back with the intention of staying, you’ll create a divergent stream, a parallel universe. That’s where you’ll grow old. In this world you’ll just vanish.”_

_“No.”_

_“Sorry, pal, that’s how it works.” Bucky forced a smile but it didn’t reach his eyes._

_“No,” Steve wouldn’t let that be true. “I’ll come back.” When he’d accomplished everything he needed to in the past, he’d come back._

_“How? Without the platform to pull you back to this future, it’s not possible, and Banner won't know where to look for you if you live beyond your extraction point.”_

_“Why not? I’m going to be jumping between different timelines to return all of the stones.”_

_“Timelines from before this one.” Bucky sighed. “Weren’t you listening to Banner? You need the platform to pull you back to now.”_

_“No, see,” Steve turned to face Bucky, tucking his leg underneath him, thinking it through. Bucky mirrored him, staring at Steve like he was chasing the impossible. But it was possible, it had to be. “Stark and I travelled back from 2012 to 1970.” Steve reasoned. “So, if I live, in my timeline, to beyond 2023 - theoretically I should be able to jump back to now; to this now.”_

_Bucky shook his head. “It’s too unknown.” He glanced up at Steve, pleading. “Saying goodbye is hard enough as it is. Don’t make promises you can’t keep.” He reaced out to place his hand on Steve’s chest, fingers splayed with a slight force behind the touch that kept Steve at bay. “Don’t give me hope.”_

_“I’ll come back.” Steve promised, leaning into Bucky’s promise. “I’ll find a way. I promise.”_

_Bucky surged forwards to kiss Steve with a force somewhere between passion and aggression. Soon his fingers, both metal and original, were tangled in Steve’s hair, pulling him closer and closer, until Steve had to kneel up and let their torsos crash together._

_“I’ll come back,” Steve repeated when Bucky let them break apart to breathe._

_“You better had.” Bucky cupped his hand around Steve’s jaw and brushed the pad of his thumb against the lobe of Steve’s ear._

_After that, all hopes of reading through the briefing notes were forgotten. The papers lay abandoned on the floor as Bucky moved to straddle Steve’s hips and kissed him with a slow, determined urgency. Steve tugged at the hem of Bucky’s shirt and peeled it up over his head, throwing it across the room and running his hands across Bucky’s smooth torso. He planted kisses along Bucky’s collar bone, down his arms, across his chest, everywhere he could reach, until his own shirt was being pulled over his head and Bucky was forcing him back to lie down on the mattress._

_Bucky leant back to stand and quickly step out of his trousers, as Steve scrambled back up the bed towards the headboard. He stared at the taught lines of Bucky’s body, the firm muscles, and the surprisingly slender line of his waist. The room had been hastily built and the walls plastered in a perfunctory white, but that only served to make the image of Bucky standing over him at the foot of the bed more striking. The dark metal of his arm, the dark tangles of hair that fell about his jaw, and the trail that snaked down his stomach looked bold against the bare background. Bucky's eyes blazed with a hunger that Steve felt right to his very core and Steve tensed, expecting Bucky to pounce to pounce, to pin him down and claim him with vigour. Instead he found Bucky crawling across to him slowly. He took his time to undo Steve’s pants and slide them off with painstaking care. Steve reached to help speed things up, but Bucky batted his hand away. He inched the material down Steve’s legs, before he let them drop to the floor and then began kiss his way back up, inch by inch, like he didn’t want to leave any patch of skin untouched._

_Steve lay back and tried to control his breathing, feeling a knot of pleasure tighten below his navel as Bucky kissed along his inner thighs, before skirting across to his hips, along his ribs, up his throat, and along his jaw until he sucked on Steve’s earlobe. Steve was forced to let out a shuddering sigh. He was a tightly wound ball of nerves, and when Bucky finally, finally reach for his cock, he practically sprang to the touch._

_Bucky kept up the slow, patient pace for far longer than Steve thought possible. It was almost like he was committing every aspect of Steve’s body to memory, cataloguing every flush, every gasp and every bitten-off moan._

_Maybe Steve had been too hasty. Bucky could surely navigate the modern world, but Steve was also asking him to navigate the world alone. Fresh guilt coursed through him, until Bucky chided him for over thinking._

_“Let me enjoy this,” Bucky pleaded. “You can feel guilty later.”_

_So, Steve surrendered himself to Bucky’s ministrations, giving over to each emotion wholly as Bucky worked him undone._

_They exhausted each other, not wanting to waste a minute with sleep, discovering new depths of passion Steve hadn't known was possible. In the throes of pleasure, tangled in the sheets, giving every inch of themselves over to the other, it was easy to forget about what tomorrow might bring. For that night, that night only, the universe ended and began with the pair of them. and Steve wouldn’t have had it any other way._


	6. New York, 1947

_New York, 1947_

Travelling through the quantum realm was not something Steve wanted to get used to. It was incomparable, like riding a motorbike through a hurricane. Only the ground was also moving at an alarming rate, and it wasn’t even really the ground; more of an endless dizzying void of particles and light. The guidance system in his helmet directed him towards a certain exit point and Steve deactivated the device; decelerating and growing rapidly until he fell into the air in a backstreet alleyway in New York.

Familiar sounds of the city buzzed around him; taxi cabs bibbing their horns, the rattle of the subway, pigeons fluttering their wings and cooing to each other. Bruised, broken and bloody, Steve fell to his knees and hacked up a lung, coughing blood onto the floor. He tried to stand but his legs felt weak and his head was spinning. He managed to throw a hand out to break his fall before he sprawled face first on the tarmac.

“Steve?”

He didn’t need to look up the recognise Peggy’s voice, or to see her face to know that incredulous expression he would find there.

He tried to call out, but his exhaustion finally caught up with him. Combined with the relief of being back in the right time, Steve was powerless to fight it. His vision blacked and he lost consciousness.

=

_“..bottom of the sixth, the Dodgers lead the Yankees 8-5. Joe DiMaggo steps up to the plate, let’s see if the Yankees can turn this game around. As the crowd well knows, one swing of his bat can make it a brand new game again.”_

The radio crackled in the corner of the room. Steve stirred, gradually becoming aware of his surroundings. He listened carefully to the commentary, almost dreading opening his eyes. This was a scenario he knew all too well. Had he broken time by going back? Was he about to wake up and find himself back in Fury’s ‘re-adjustment room’? Trapped in an endless time loop?

 _“Joe leans in, here’s the pitch.”_ There was a clack of a baseball bat colliding with a ball. The crowd cheered through the radio. _“Swung off deep left field, it’s a long one. Back for Gionfriddo, back, back, back he……...makes a one-handed catch right against the bullpen! Whoa, doctor! He went exactly against the railing in front of the bullpen and reached up with one hand and took a home run away from DiMaggio.”_

Steve’s eyes flew open. He didn’t remember that match. He tried to sit up, wheezing as his still-healing ribs protested too much movement. He lying on a bed in a room he didn’t recognise. The décor was unmistakably from the 40s, and not the fake 40s Fury had tried to emulate. Steve couldn’t place his finger on what felt right, but he instinctively knew he was back in the past. He threw the covers off and swung his legs over the side of the bed, noticing that someone had stripped him down to the nylon-blend shorts he wore under his suit. His feet had barely touched onto the carpet when Peggy tutted at him from the doorway.

“I don’t think so. You need to rest.” She looked exactly like he’d always remembered.          

“Peggy,” he breathed. She was really here; he was really back.

“Back into bed,” she ordered in her usual no nonsense way and handed him a drink from the tray she’d been carrying. “And drink this,”

Steve was too pleased to see her again to mind being ordered about. “What year is it?”

“1947. October 5th.” She supplied. “You’ve been dead for two years.” Peggy straightened the tray on the bedside table and sat on the edge of the bed by Steve’s knees.

“Feels like longer.”

“What happened?”

How to explain it? Steve took a breath. “I went into the ice. The serum kept me alive and the cold put me into cryosleep. Until a group of explorers found me.” He gave her the very condensed truth. “I hear we won the war,” Steve smiled.

“We did. No small thanks to you.” Peggy reached for his hand and gave it a squeeze. “It’s so good to have you back." she smiled at him, her eyes flicking across every corner of his face, assessing, remembering, hardly daring to believe that he was back. "Phillips is going to be overjoyed.” she added with a slight laugh.

“No.”

Peggy frowned.

“We can’t tell anyone I’m alive. Not yet. There’s something I need to do, and it’ll be far easier to accomplish if I’m ‘dead’.”

“What is it?”

“Bucky’s alive.”

Peggy looked shocked. Her hand crushed Steve’s fingers as she flinched in shock. “How – how is that possible?”

Steve explained how Zola had been experimenting on Bucky as a prisoner before Steve had rescued him, how that had altered his physiology similar to Steve’s, and allowed him to survive the fall.

“Where is he now?”

“Hydra picked him up. They have him in a medical research facility in Switzerland. They’re planning to turn him into a weapon against the west.”

“But Hydra was eradicated when you took down Red Skull.”

“ _’Cut off one head, two more will take its place.’_ ” Steve quoted their mantra. “They’re very much still active, with plans to infiltrate both American intelligence and the KGB.”

Peggy took the news with suprising calm. “Who’s in charge?”

“I don’t know who he reports to, but Zola is definitely a key player in infiltrating the CIA and the SSR.”

“Zola.” Peggy said it like a curse. “I knew we shouldn’t trust him. He’s always been too eager to cooperate.” She considered for a moment, before asking, “What’s their aim?”

“Manipulating the pieces on both sides of the board, playing them against each other to cause chaos and discord until mankind look to them for leadership. ‘A future free from freedom’.” The words tasted sour in Steve’s mouth.

“How do you know all of this? Not to accuse – I mean,” Peggy collected herself and gave Steve a reassuring smile. “I believe you. But if I take this to SSR, I need some assurances that this isn’t just guesswork.”

Steve dipped his head and squinted out of the window. He’d known this conversation was coming, he just hadn’t reckoned on it happening so soon.

“I didn’t, exactly, come out of the ice in 1947.” Steve said slowly, trying to figure out how best to tell her the truth. It was going to sound insane.

“You mean you’ve been hunting them down all this time?” Peggy sounded almost angry. “For the past two years you’ve been alive, and you let me,” she stood up off the bed and backed away from him. “You let me _grieve_ ,”

“No, no, Peggy,” Steve scrambled forwards to catch her hand. “I woke up in 2012. Sixty-five years from now. I’ve come back to put things right.”

=

_Morning came far too quickly. Steve woke tired and aching with a pleasant exhaustion. He rolled on to his side and watched Bucky sleep for a moment. He was sprawled on his front, his hair splayed around him on the pillow. One arm was bent under his cheek, the other twisted behind his back. Steve ran a gentle finger along Bucky’s bicep, raising goose bumps in his wake. He pressed a gentle kiss on his shoulder and watched as Bucky stirred awake._

_“Morning,” he grumbled into the pillow._

_“Good morning,” Steve replied, still lethargic with sleep._

_“Time is it?”_

_“Still early,” Steve assured him. “0600.” His departure was scheduled for nine. The reality was finally hitting him._

_Bucky cracked an eye open and stared at Steve through his sheet of hair. For a while they just lay there, listening to the sound of each other breathing as life began to bustle around the compound once more. Plant machinery roared to life outside their window and down the hall someone started hammering. It wasn't exactly a peacful morning for lounging in bed._

_  
_

_“I loved you before, you know.” Bucky said almost in a whisper. “Before all this.” He rolled on his back and kicked his feet free from the duvet. “That little guy from Brooklyn who was too stupid to run away from a fight, that’s the guy I fell in love with.”_

_“I know. I loved you then too.”_

_“I told you not to do anything stupid until I got back, and you went a turned yourself into a lab rat.”_

_Steve didn’t know what to say to that, so he reached out and gave Bucky’s hand a squeeze._

_“If I had a time machine, I’d stop you.” Bucky mused. “Or I stop myself. Maybe if I’d actually listened to you and not signed up we wouldn’t be in this mess.”_

_“Hey,” Steve rolled over to curl up against Bucky’s side and laid his head on Bucky’s chest. “None of this is your fault.”_

_“I know it’s not. It’s yours.” Bucky teased, without malice._

_“I don’t have to go.” Steve lifted his head to gaze up at Bucky._

_“Yes you do.”_

_Metal fingers carded ever so gently through Steve’s hair._

_“This is your only chance. If you don’t take it – you’ll regret it forever. I’ve already got plenty on my conscious, Steve, I don’t need your restless unhappiness playing on my mind too.”_

_Steve closed his eyes and nestled against Bucky. Why did everything have to be so goddam complicated? “We have the time stone. I could just undo what was done. Then we could be together.” It was an idle notion._

_“No you can’t.” Bucky said firmly, echoing Steve's own thoughts. “You’re not ripping a hole in the fabric of space-time for me. The happiness of one man doesn't get to tip the scales of the universe.”_

_Steve gave a disgruntled hum. None of this time travel malarkey made any sense to him. He’d watched Thanos isolate Vision and turn back time on him alone to undo his death. Why couldn’t Steve isolate him and Bucky? Why couldn’t he reverse time so they were back in Brooklyn, back before the war; when their biggest concerns were splitting their meagre wages between the pictures and groceries._

_“We’re messing with time already, I don’t understand the difference.” He sounded petulant, but he didn’t care._

_“Neither do I. But the ones who did seem to there's a big difference.”_

_“Yeah. They probably know best.” Steve conceded with a great sigh. Tony had always known best. Steve had just been too pig-headed to listen to him. He let himself wonder what Tony would make this plan. He probably wouldn’t have been onboard with it, but it could hardly do more damage to the time streams than letting Loki go free with the tesseract. Besides, Steve clung to the selfish, jealous notion, Tony had retired to live his idyllic life after the first snap; didn’t Steve get a chance to live his?_

_“We should get up.” Bucky made to move, but Steve held him down, enjoying the simple pleasure of lying entwined together._

_“We’ve still got time.” He arched up to catch Bucky’s mouth in a kiss, slowly moving across to straddle him. The kiss was languid and unhurried, Steve cupped Bucky’s face and tried to impress into him all of the love, all of the hopes and fears, all of the overpowering feelings he’d had for Bucky over the years. Bucky arched up into him, keening as Steve ground down and kissed until their lips were swollen and their breath hitched._

_A loud hammering on the door rudely interrupted them before they’d even really begun._

_“Cap, you in there?” Sam yelled through the plywood._

_“Yes.” Steve propped himself on his elbows and shot angry glance over his shoulder._

_“Breakfast’s up in the main hall and Banner wants to run final safety checks from 0700.”_

_“I’ll be right there.” Steve replied._

_“Tell Barnes to get his lazy ass out of bed too,” Sam added before they heard him walk away from the door._

_Steve and Bucky shared a look, before Steve slunk back across to his side of the bed. He lay for a moment, letting the adrenaline wane out of him._

_“Have you asked him yet?”_

_“Not yet.”_

_“You’re running out of time.”_

_“I told you. I’m coming back.” Steve grinned at Bucky. He hadn’t found the right time to broach the subject with Sam. He wanted to do it right. “He’ll need a shield.”_

_“Shuri already made you one.”_

_“What?” Steve sat up._

_“You sound surprised? Vibranium’s hardly the scarce resource we thought it was.” Bucky gestured to the corner of the room where a large circular disc sat wrapped in a bag. “I was bringing it to you last night before we got…distracted,” Bucky smiled lazily._

_The last weight lifted from Steve’s chest. With Bucky’s blessing, and knowing there would still be a Captain America to defend the earth, Steve could finally feel justified in leaving._

_“I’m going to take a shower.” He announced, half hoping Bucky might join him. He took extra time to lather soap in his hair and bask under the torrent of warm water that cascaded around him, filling the bathroom with steam and showering until the water started to run cold, but Bucky never materialised._

_When he emerged from the little en-suite, clean and dry with a towel slung low around his hips, Steve wasn’t surprised to find Bucky was gone. The bed had been made and the shield sat propped against the pillows in his place._


	7. New York, 1947 / 2023

_New York, 1947_

The battle of New York, Washington, Project Insight, Bucky, Ultron, Sokovia, Zemo, the fugitive years, Thanos, the battle of Wakanda, the snap, five years of global grief, the time heist to steal the stones, and Steve’s quest to the return them; Peggy listened to it all with a deepening expression of horror and incredulity. He’d tried to keep it as concise as possible, but it was growing dark outside by the time Steve had finished talking.

“I know it sounds....insane.” The word didn’t seem to cover the scope of just how ridiculous the tale must seem. Time travel, aliens, it was like he’d read one too many comic books and needed his brain checking.

“Steve,” Peggy gave him a smile that assured him she believed every word. “When I first knew you, you were 5’4”, and 95lbs. I  watched you grow into...this, in minutes. We fought people with weapons that could disintegrate people in a heartbeat, led by a man with a red skull for a face. I’ve dealt with chemical weapons that cause psychosis, _zero matter_....I don’t doubt that anything is possible anymore. Time travel seems par for the course, if I’m being perfectly honest. And if anyone were to crack the secret, it would be Howard Stark’s son.” She ran a hand gently across Steve’s brow and down his cheek. “I’m glad you came back.”

“Well, I couldn’t leave my best girl, not when I owed her a dance,” Steve smiled back.

A sadness flickered across Peggy’s face, but it was gone before Steve could read its meaning.

“I’ll call Howard, see if he can’t bankroll this operation for us. SSR won’t sanction this - and if what you say is true, I’m not sure how we can actually trust anymore. Dum Dum should be on board to help out and sure I’m Sawyer and Pinkerton wouldn’t take much convincing. ”

“What about the others?”

“Retired.”

Damn. That was a blow. “This really is going to be a small operation. Is there anyone else you trust at SSR?”

“Not with this.”

“Well,” Steve tried to be pragmatic. “We’ll manage.”

“You managed to rescue Barnes along with over a hundred other prisoners of war from deep behind enemy lines all by yourself, I seem to recall.” Peggy reminded him.

“I had help from you and Stark, not to mention a youthful sense of recklessness and invincibility,” Steve returned, only half joking.

“Stark and I will be there again, besides,” Peggy gave him a sly smile. “I’m sure there’s nothing quite like the prospect of bringing Barnes home to rekindle that reckless bravery.”

Steve dropped his head, feeling himself blush.

“We’ll get him back, Steve, don’t you worry.”

=

Over the days that followed, Steve threw himself back into life in the forties. When Peggy wasn’t busy working every waking hour for SSR, she was trying to dig up whatever information on Hydra and the mysterious Asset 32557038 she could. With Steve still ‘Missing in Action’, and not wanting to blow his cover, there was only so much of the preparation he could help with. Instead, he busied himself around the house, running errands, doing chores, trying to make Peggy’s life easier, and trying to readjust to life in the past.

He marvelled at the ability to leave the front door open without having to worry about being burgled, and cheerily greeted passers-by with smiles and ‘good mornings’ on his way to the grocery store, amazed to find they replied in kind. He did get accosted by a policeman one morning as he tried to jog along the Hudson - forgetting that recreational jogging wasn’t a done thing for another few decades at least – and more than once he itched to google a recipe he’d forgotten, but the transition back to 1947 was far, far less jarring than waking up in 2012 had been. Steve actually felt happy, humming around the house with a warm contented glow in his chest as he poured over maps of Switzerland and diced carrots for the casserole was he cooking.

Peggy staggered through the door in the mid-afternoon, bringing a gust of cool autumn air with her. She kicked the door closed behind her and kicked off one shoe, then the other, before collapsing on the sofa with an almighty sigh of exhaustion. Steve wiped his hands on a tea towel and ventured into the drawing room to find her sprawled, already half asleep. Far from being home early, she was returning from a very late night. Propping himself against the door jamb, Steve watched her for a moment before going to fetch a blanket from the cupboard in the hall. He gently propped a pillow under her head and draped the blanket around her shoulders. He collected her shoes and placed them neatly by the front door before turning the radio on low to mask the clattering sounds of his cooking (when Steve cooked it always seemed to be more of a battle with the vegetables than any form of culinary art – still it was better than Peggy could manage). With the casserole safely in the oven, he picked up Swiss train timetables Peggy had scrounged from somewhere, and sat himself in the arm chair opposite Peggy, studying them whilst she slept.

It was a while before she stirred. Confused by the blanket, she glanced at Steve accusingly. “You let me sleep?” she asked, brushing her hair back from her forehead and stretching like a cat as a yawn surged through her.

Steve just smiled. “You needed it. Have longer if you like, the food won’t be ready for a while.”

Peggy turned her head towards the smells drifting from the kitchen, then she let herself notice the radio quietly playing the corner and the soft domesticity of Steve reading beside her as she slept. She sat up and bundled the blanket neatly away before she turned to state at him, he didn’t understand why her expression crumbled.

“There was a time when this would have been all I ever wanted.” Her tone was melancholy, Steve sensed a ‘but’.

“But,” Peggy sighed. “I’m not that woman anymore. I can’t go back to being ‘Captain America’s best girl’, your ‘old flame’, ‘sweetheart’.”

“Peg, you know I never defined you like that –”

“You didn’t. Unfortunately everyone else did.” She shook her head. Her hair had come loose as she slept and it curled around her shoulders with a soft elegance that seemed so unique to her. “Especially after that stunt you pulled with the compass – which I notice you still had on you. That particular piece of footage made my life a living hell.”

Her words cut Steve to the core. The only token he’d kept with him all these years, and Peggy had hated it? His dismay must have shown across his face because Peggy was quick to explain.

“I understood your intention and the sentiment was well received.” She assured him with a smile. “But it did somewhat dent my credibility at the office. Especially – after the war.”

Not for the first time, Steve was overwhelmed by a crushing sense of guilt. Peggy had always appeared so strong and confident, Steve had never paused to consider the hardships she’d overcome or her perseverance to succeed in a world biased towards men.

“I stayed with SSR but I lost my sense of purpose. I was an agent in name only. They had me taking lunch orders, manning the phones, _filing_ for god’s sake. When I knew, I _knew_ , I was smart and resourceful and a damn sight better than any ten of SSR’s best agents. But of course, all of my accomplishments during the war were clearly thanks to my relationship with you.”

“Oh, Peggy. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.” Peggy sniffed and raised her eyes to the ceiling to blink back tears. “You know, one agent was kind enough to tell me that no man was ever going to see me as an equal.”

Righteous anger began to broil inside Steve. “He sounds like a jerk.”

“A royal one.” Peggy agreed. “But he was right.” She let out another sigh and brought her eyes back to Steve. “You were one of the few people who saw past that fact that I was a woman, and actually respected me for something other than my beauty, or my accent. But you were gone. And I realised I had to stop clinging to the hope that you might – miraculously – come back. I had to stop living in your shadow. I had to move on.”

Steve dropped his gaze.

“It took me a while. I was so focused on proving to everyone what I wasn’t, that I failed to be who I am. I moved to California with work thinking I could find happiness there, but once I finally realised my worth, stopped valuing myself by other's opinions of me, and stopped trying to compete with your legacy, I found that the only person who had made me happy in a long time, the person who truly cared for me and believed in me had been right here, under my nose.”

Steve found himself smiling. He understood. It was what he’d been expecting. Peggy had often told him all about the great life she’d lived. Steve hadn’t really come back with the intention of taking that from her. He wanted to rescue Bucky and fix the problems he’d failed to before. More than anything he wanted the people he loved to be happy.

“Sounds like a great person. I’d love to meet them.”

“You will. When this is all over, when Barnes is home safe, perhaps we could double date?”

So Peggy knew. Of course she did. Steve grinned at her knowing smile. “That sounds like a plan. The Stork Club?” He meant it as a playful reference, but when he saw the Peggy’s expression crack, he knew he’d missed the mark. He’d had eleven years to put it behind him, Peggy had barely two.

“I went to the Stork Club. A week after you…died.” She sounded almost embarrassed. “God, I was a wreck. I sat at the bar all night, weeping, hoping you’d show up and hating myself for actually believing that you might.” This time all the blinking in the world couldn’t hold back her tears.

Steve did the only thing he could think of. He leapt to his feet and turned up the radio. A brassy tune filled the room as he walked towards where Peggy was sitting on the couch.

“Peggy Carter,” he extended his hand, in the formal way he’d seen Bucky do it a thousand times. “Would you do me the honour of giving me this dance?”

Peggy was too choked with tears to answer so she nodded and let Steve pull her to her feet. They waltzed slowly around the room, swaying into one another and holding on tight.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there,” he whispered into the curve of her neck.

“You came back, that’s all that matters. Together we’ll set the world to rights.”

She kissed him, once more for old times sake, and Steve leaned into it. It felt exactly like he’d thought it would; comforting, reassuring, but strangely platonic. Peggy leant her head on Steve’s shoulder and together they swayed to the music. Together they’d take down Hydra. Together they’d build a better future.

=

_Dappled sunlight fell through the trees as Steve walked to the platform. Banner had set it up on the shore of the Hudson, away from the bustling re-construction of the compound. A generator, plus two back-ups, was running inside a small yellow tent and Banner was busy configuring the final settings on the control console._

_“Remember, you have to return the stones at the exact moment you got them. Or you're going to open up a bunch of nasty alternative realities.” Banner reminded him. As if they hadn’t been running through that all morning._

_“Don’t worry. I’ll clip all the branches.” Steve assured him; all of the branches without infinity stones, at least (they’d decided going after Loki was neither possible nor worth the risk, not to mention the alternative reality Steve was going to open up by choosing to stay). He braced himself, gripping the handle of the metal case that contained all six stones. It was a little daunting being in possession of that much power, but that feeling was overshadowed by the tasks set before him._

_Sam and Bucky were already waiting for him by launch site, laughing and smiling together as Steve approached. For all that they provoked each other, Steve could see they’d become good friends. He knew he wasn’t leaving Bucky completely alone, and Sam could more than handle the mantle of Captain America in his place._

_“You know, if you want, I can come with you.” Sam offered._

_“You’re a good man, Sam. This one’s on me, though,” Steve turned down the offer with a smile. Sam nodded, he hadn’t expected it to be accepted, but the offer was still appreciated._

_Steve finally let himself focus on Bucky. He’d showered and brushed his hair, looking more and more like his old self; it was heart-warming. Steve wanted to  pull him close and kiss him until they were breathless, but he knew if he did, he’d never leave. Even the briefest of hugs almost made it too difficult to let go. They’d said their goodbyes last night. Steve searched Bucky’s face and a small smile told Steve he felt the same._

_“Don’t do anything stupid ‘til I get back,” Steve playfully recalled their last goodbye._

_“How can I? You’re taking all the stupid with you.”_

_It brought a lump to Steve’s throat._

_“I’m gonna miss you, buddy.” Bucky added, and Steve almost broke his resolve._

_“It’s gonna be okay, Buck.”_

_Then, before he could change his mind, Steve stepped up onto the platform._

_“Ready, Cap?”_

_“Ready.”_

_“Going quantum in three…two…one…”_

_=_

_New York, 2023_

_One last journey. Steve activated the pym particles he’d kept safe for all those years, and found himself falling, shrinking, hurtling towards the past._

Steve fell against a wall of the compound and fought to catch his breath. He was far too old to be messing with time travel. It was difficult to keep track of how many years Steve had actually lived, but by his reckoning he was at least 114. There was still life left in him yet though, thanks to the serum which seemed to slow down his ageing. Steve knew he looked barely a day over eighty, and he was still hale and hearty for a man of his age, but his knees definitely creaked more than they had the last time he’d walked through these halls.

He stuck to the less deserted route and retrieved the shield from his old room. For a moment he entertained the idea of trying it on once again, but the shield wasn’t his anymore. It hadn’t been his for a long time. Steve ran his hand along the edge, drawing a ring from the metal, before sheathing it in the bag and looping the strap across his shoulder.

The sunlight fell dappled through the trees that grew along the edge of the river. Steve found himself an inconspicuous spot on a bench overlooking the water and waited. He watched sunlight bounce off the ripples from the current, and felt the soft breeze play through his hair, filling his lungs with the fresh clean air of upstate New York.

Neither Bruce, Sam, Bucky, nor Steve noticed the old man sitting behind them as they ran through their last checks and fired up the machine. Steve smiled to himself as he listened and remembered how he’d felt when he stepped up onto that platform: Mjolnir in one hand, the infinity stones in the other, and the balance of the universe resting on his shoulders. Well, he didn’t think he’d mucked it up too much.

“Going quantum in three…two…one…” Banner said. There was a faint rush of air as Steve’s former self disappeared through time. “And returning in five, four, three, two, one…”

He could practically feel the tension radiating off the three of them as they waited and nothing happened. How long would they take to spot him? Steve wondered.

“Where is he?” Sam demanded, sounding fraught.

“I don’t know, he blew right by his time stamp. He should be here.”

“Well get him back!”

“I’m trying!”

In the end it was Bucky who spotted him, Steve knew it would be. He could feel Bucky’s gaze on the back of his neck, he didn’t need to turn to know he would be smiling.

“Go ahead,” Bucky urged Sam, and then, very cautiously, Sam was approaching Steve.

“Cap?”

He looked just the same as Steve had always remembered; just as youthful, just as determined. Steve handed over the shield knowing it was going into good hands.

As Sam marvelled at the shield, Bucky finally made his way over. His hands were jammed into his pockets and his jaw was clenched in the way he’d always masked his nerves.

“Hi, Buck,”

“Looking chipper.” Bucky commented. He looked _so young_.

“I don’t feel it,” Steve smiled. “It’s been a long time,”

“A long five seconds,” Bucky agreed. “Did you do it?”

“Yes.”

“Was it worth it?”

“ _Oh, yes_.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out the wallet Bucky had given him. It was worn smooth with age, the leather was soft and shiny. It fell open In Steve’s hands to reveal stacks of pictures stuffed inside where money should have been. “Would you like to see?” Steve scooted along the bench to give Bucky space to sit beside him.

Bucky hesitated before reaching for the wallet. With shaking hands he extracted the largest photo of them all, Steve’s favourite: a group photo from Peggy’s sixtieth birthday party. They were all gathered on the lawn of Stark’s mansion lifting glasses of champagne in a toast to Peggy who looked humbled, but happy in amongst her friends and family. Steve and Bucky were stood behind her left shoulder, Steve’s head thrown back in laughter at something ridiculous Bucky was whispering in his ear.

“Who’s that handsome devil?” Bucky laughed, staring at the image of his alternate-self. “God, I look just like my father.”

“Much better looking.” Steve countered.

“I look so happy.” Bucky sounded dazed an distant. His expression as he stared at the photo was one of dream-like disbelief.

“We were.”

Bucky scanned the rest of the photo. “Is that Howard? And is that -”

A young Tony Stark was scampering around in the bottom of the frame with Peggy’s children, nephews and nieces.

“We were actually his godparents.” Steve admitted. He still wasn’t quite over the strangeness of that. Watching Tony grow had both been a blessing and a heartache.

Bucky shook his head and handed the photos back. He clenched his hands to hide how much they were shaking, and when Steve glanced at him, he realised Bucky was crying.

“You were the best uncle, and the best godfather anyone could ever ask for.” Steve told him, reaching out to grasp Bucky’s hand. “and the best husband.”

Bucky glanced down, noticing the gold band on Steve’s ring finger.

“We…?”

Steve nodded. Bucky searched Steve’s eyes, determined to find the lie, but all he saw was love radiating back at him from eyes he knew so well. It was almost too much to take.

“…Hydra?” he asked in a whisper.

“Finished.”

“Thanos?”

“Prevented.” The stones had been spread far across the galaxy, protected by much more advanced security than they had on earth. As far as Steve knew, Thanos had been hunted down and dealt with before he got the chance to get his hands on any of them.

Bucky nodded. He took a breath and looked out over the Hudson. “I assume, I, uh,” he coughed. “Died.”

“Last year.” It felt like much longer. Only the knowledge that Steve could see Bucky again had got him through it.

“How?”

“Peacefully. At home.”

Bucky nodded. He jutted his chin.

“You made it to 105, that’s nothing to be sniffed at.”

Bucky’s eyebrows quirked. “I’ve got some years left in me yet, huh?”

“Some great ones.” Steve assured him with a smile.

“Thank you.” Bucky said, barley audible. “For living our life.”

“You’ve still got yours to live.” Steve replied.

“Yeah, now I just gotta figure out what to do with it.”

Steve glanced back at Sam who was still overawed by the shield, feeling the balance of it and running his fingers round and round the edge.

“I think you know.”

“Yeah, somone’s gotta keep him in check.”

Steve gave Bucky’s hand a squeeze and leant against his shoulder. It was going to take some adjusting to be back, but Steve finally felt at peace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the end! Thanks for reading this! It's purely self indulgent to give myself some closure after endgame. I wasn't sure who I wanted to ship Peggy with, so I decided to leave it open. Personally, I ship her with Angie and I imagine the four of them living as neighbours, covering for each other on double dates. Steve, or Bucky (or both) could act as donors for their kids, who get raised in the most loving environment in a world free from hydra or thanos, with Peggy and Steve working in the background to quietly rid the world of the worst dangers. But that's just me. 
> 
> I'm tempted to write a sequel where Steve, Peggy and the howling commandos rescue bucky and we get to see some of that life - I still might - but for now I wanted just to write a canon compliant alternative ending for the movie, so I can rewatch it without being disappointed everytime. 
> 
> Comments are always appreciated! I'd love to hear what you think, even if it's a simple emoji <3 thank you!!!

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are always appreciated :)
> 
> (I've only seen Endgame once so far, so continuity mistakes are all on me. I just needed to write something quickly to fix Stucky).


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